


Afterlife

by Cissmoll



Category: Final Fantasy XIII, Final Fantasy XIII Series, Final Fantasy XIII-2, Lightning Returns: Final Fantasy XIII
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-09-25 00:21:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 5,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9794117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cissmoll/pseuds/Cissmoll
Summary: HopeLight drabbles taking place in the new world. The chapters are not in chronological order.





	1. Nap

Not for the first time, and most certainly not for the last, Hope found himself pacing back and forth in Lightning’s one-room apartment. Lightning watched him from her neatly made bed, making non-committal noises every now and then as he ranted about his new-world work and his new-world colleagues.

“They just don’t listen,” he said with an exasperated sigh. “Back in Academia, people  _listened_ to me.”

Lightning cocked an eyebrow. “Back in Academia, people let you get away with pretty much anything. Look where that got us.”

Hope groaned. “Don’t pull the Bhunivelze card on me.”

“All I’m saying is that working with people who don’t worship you might be good for you in the long run.”

He ran his fingers through his hair. She was right, of course. She usually was. Their partnership from the old world may have ended as the new age began, but she was still the one he turned to every time something bothered him—which was why he kept ending up pacing back and forth in her apartment all the time. Leading the process of retrospectively smoothing out the transition between one world and another had turned out to be quite a bothersome experience.

“I need to get back to work.” He forced back a yawn. “And some coffee. I probably need some coffee, too.”

“What you need is rest.” She eyed him head to toe. “You look like you’re about to collapse.”

He snorted. “I haven’t been home in three days. Haven’t slept in—“ he checked his watch “—thirty-four hours. I still have a ton of things to finish by the end of the week. Resting isn’t on the agenda today.”

“It is now.” She patted the mattress.

He stared at her. “I’m not—”

“You are.” She gave him the look she used to give behemoths before slaughtering them. “Now.”

Hope awkwardly made his way to the bed, fidgeting with his tie. There were a lot of things he and Lightning hadn’t talked about yet since they joined the new world. A lot of subjects that suddenly felt very, very urgent.

Lightning grabbed his arm and pulled him down next to her. “Rest.”

His heart started to race. “Light—”

“Don’t overthink it.” She turned to her side, wrapping his arm around her. “It’s just a nap.”

It wasn’t. It was way more than just a nap, and they both knew it.

Hope took a deep breath. The warmth of her body and the smell of her hair were already calming him down, just like she’d probably known it would. Oh yes, there were definitely things they needed to talk about—but, Hope decided, not today. Today, he’d indulge in being near her, upholding this fluctuating gray zone of a relationship for a little while longer. 

In the end, being near her was all that mattered anyway.


	2. Mistake

“This was a mistake,” Hope said, quickly backing away from Lightning. “Just a mistake. Please forget that it ever happened.”

“A mistake?” Lightning stared at him, her lips still tingling. “Is that your excuse?”

Hope looked away. “Just forget about it.”

She crossed the distance between them in three quick steps and grabbed his tie. “If you get to make mistakes, then so do I.”

When they kissed for the second time that night, neither of them pulled away.


	3. Trembling hands

Lightning slowly raised her hand, and then lowered it again. She tried once more, hesitantly reaching for the doorbell, before pulling back.

“We don’t have to do this today,” Hope said. “Besides, I’m fairly sure she already knows.”

“That’s the point.” Lightning stared at her useless, trembling hand. “I have to tell her myself, or she’ll think I’m trying to hide it from her.”

Hope paused for a moment. “Are you?”

There was a hint of uncertainty hidden in his voice. Lightning turned to look at him. He had a habit of putting on his calm, friendly director-face in situations like these, but she could see right through it. He was anxious. Really anxious. Mostly, she suspected, because of the possibility that she might still change her mind.

“I’m not.” She swallowed hard, gathering strength. “Not anymore. I want her to know about us. I’m done hiding.”

“Me too.” He gave her the smile that seemed to be reserved just for her, and it obliterated all her doubts. When she raised her hand for the third time, she found that it was no longer trembling. She took a deep breath, and then finally rang the doorbell to Serah and Snow’s apartment.

 


	4. Sweat

Back arched. Head thrown back. Pearls of sweat trickling down her temples.

Hope paused, staring at Lightning in awe. He’d once watched a world come to life before his very eyes, but that view had been nothing compared to this.

She opened her eyes, and through gritted teeth, she hissed, “If you stop right now, I’m going to kill you.”

Hope smiled. He’d once held the fate of the universe in his very hands, but he’d never felt more powerful than when Lightning Farron looked at him like she needed him more than air.


	5. Alone, finally

Hope wasn’t sure what triggered it this time. Maybe stress. Maybe the lack of sleep and food and exercise. Maybe the memory of the unbroken man he’d used to be before he’d almost single-handedly started an apocalypse. Maybe everything all at once.

He gave his coworkers a polite smile before half walking, half running out of the meeting room. The pressure in his chest made it hard to breathe, and by the time he reached his office, his heart was pounding like it was trying to hammer a hole through his ribcage. He slammed the door shut behind him and sank to the floor. Alone. Finally. With no one watching, he dared to let go.

The attack went on for what seemed like hours when, in reality, only a few minutes passed. When the hyperventilation finally started to die down, he pulled his phone out of a pocket in his lab coat. His trembling fingers moved on instinct.

“Hope? What’s up?” Lightning said a few rings later, a hint of worry in her voice.

“Nothing,” Hope said. “Things are just… a little, well, not good, right now.”

“Ah.”

He took a deep breath. Just hearing her voice made him feel calmer. He had to stop doing this, to stop using her as an emotional crutch to lean on every time his mental health started to throw a tantrum, but he didn’t know what else to do. She was the only one who could help him when he had these fits. Moments like these, her voice was the only thing that kept him sane.

“Is there anything I can do?” she asked him.

“Please, just… just stay with me. At least for a little while.”

“Alright. Hang on.” He could vaguely distinguish the sound of a chair being pulled out from a table. “So… What did you have for lunch today?”

Hope was too exhausted to smile, but his lips still twitched. “Haven’t eaten yet. You?”

Calming warmth filled his chest as their conversation went on.  He leaned back against the door, holding the phone against his ear in a desperate grip. Moments like these, it was his lifeline. _She_ was his lifeline.

At times like these, being around people was impossible, but so was going through a panic attack all alone. There was a loophole in the paradox, though. A loophole he didn’t understand, didn’t _want_ to understand, but still couldn’t stop himself from using.

Being alone with _her._


	6. Are you drunk?

Lightning had been leaning against the balcony railing for almost half an hour when she heard someone approach her from behind. She thought about turning around to face the newcomer, but decided not to. A movement like that could—and most likely _would_ —make her stomach turn itself inside out.

The steps stopped right next to her. “What are you doing here?” Hope asked. “It’s freezing.”

“It’s not that cold.” Big lie.

“You’re shivering.”

“No, I’m not.” Even bigger lie. The thin cardigan she wore over her floor-length black dress offered no protection whatsoever against the biting November wind. She couldn’t go inside, though. It was one of Snow’s more important political parties. Image was important to him right now—and since it was important to him, it was also important to Serah.

When they’d asked Lightning to come, she’d decided that she could suffer through wearing a dress and socializing with people for one night if it made Serah happy. Then, she’d arrived at the party. The rented mansion was jam-packed with people, and it only took a few minutes before she felt like she was about to suffocate. That was when she found out that the party had a free bar. Terrible life choices were made.   

 “Leave me alone.” Her elbow slipped off the railing. She quickly straightened up, her cheeks heating up.  

“Hey.” He leaned over, his face filling her field of sight. “Light, are you drunk?”

Lightning took a step back in surprise and nearly lost her balance. Hope quickly placed a hand on her back to stabilize her.  

“No,” she said when she got the nausea under control. She hesitated for a moment. “Maybe.” Then, “Yes.”

Hope choked back a laugh. “You should go home.”

“I can’t.”

“Why? I’ll call a cab.”

“ _I can’t._ ”

“Why not?” A faint wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows. “I don’t get it.”

Mortified beyond belief, she finally said, “I can’t walk straight.”

This time, Hope burst out laughing for real. “Are you serious? Is that why you’ve been hiding out here?”

She nodded, clenching her jaw. “I’ll sober up eventually.”

“You’ll freeze to death before that happens.”

“So be it.”

Hope shook his head, grinning. “Come on, I’ll help you. Just hold on to me.”

He wrapped his arm around her waist and firmly pulled her close before starting to walk. The wave of nausea hit her instantly, forcing her to burrow her nails deep into his sleeve to keep her balance.

“Stop it,” she hissed.

“You’ll thank me in the morning. “Hope continued on, and since he was currently Lightning’s only mean of staying upright, so did she. Every step was torture, but his arm kept her on her feet.

“Do you have a death wish?” She shook her head in an attempt to clear her vision. The action made her stomach reevaluate whether or not to evict all its content, but her eyes remained blurry. She almost tripped over the hem of her dress but managed to keep on going, fully convinced that freezing to death on the balcony would have been a much more humane option.

“You’re a pretty annoying drunk, you know that?” Hope sighed.

She was, and she knew it. “Shut up. I’m a _delight._ ”

He let out a short laugh. “Whatever you say.”

He got them past the balcony door and into the mansion, walking through several rooms full of unsuspecting party guests. Snow and Serah was nowhere to be seen. If Lightning had still been religious, she would have thanked some kind of deity for that.

They came to a stop as they reached the massive staircase that would take them to the ground floor. Lightning glanced at the stairs before fixing her eyes on the wall. The mere thought of going down those steps made her knees shake.

“This isn’t going to work.”

Hope remained silent for a moment. “No, no it’s not. Is anyone watching?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Good.”

Moments later, Lightning’s feet no longer touched the ground. With one arm under her thighs and one supporting her back, Hope scooped her up with ease. She automatically held on to him, staring speechlessly as he hurried down the stairs. This was wrong on so many levels.

He put her down on the ground a few seconds later. She still couldn’t stop staring.

“What was that?” she asked, all of a sudden acutely aware of the arm still encircling her waist. Her head was spinning. Probably because of the alcohol. _Hopefully_ because of the alcohol.

Hope gave her a smug smile. “I got you down the stairs. You’re welcome.”

“Yes, but you _carried_ me. You’re can’t just… You’re not supposed to be able to do that. You’re _small_.”

His smile widened. “I’m not that small anymore.”

She took him in, looking at him in a way she hadn’t dared to in a very long time. No, he wasn’t small anymore. He was taller than her. Older, too. And, she had to admit, looked way too good in a suit. _Shit._

“Alright, almost out.” Hope kept her steady as he led her toward the hallway. “I’ll get us a cab, and then we’ll get you home.”

“Right.” She tried to focus on walking straight, but her mind kept going off track. No matter how much she tried not to, she couldn’t stop thinking about the hand on her waist. Things had changed, and there was no going back. What she’d already known deep inside for ages had now finally reached the surface.

Hope wasn’t a kid anymore.


	7. Never mind, the moment's gone

Every now and then, Hope caught Lightning staring at him. She only did it when she thought he wasn’t looking, but discretion had never been one of her greatest strengths. The expression she wore when she looked at him was confusing, to say the least. There was always a crease between her eyebrows, and her eyes displayed something that usually came off as a strange mixture of affection and fear. He’d never seen her give anyone else this expression. The only one she looked at like that was him.

He’d be lying if he said he disliked it.

This time, she was curled up on the couch, staring at him as he typed out a report on his laptop. Without either of them ever really talking about it, this had become routine—whenever he had time to spare, he spent it in her apartment. He was sitting on the other end of the couch, meaning her face was about three or four feet away from him at the most, but she still seemed to think he wouldn’t notice her looking. It was as silly as it was confusing. The wrinkle on her forehead was even deeper than usual, and for several minutes, she looked like she was on the verge of saying something. Hope waited, but the words never came. She just kept staring.

“If there’s something on my face, feel free to tell me,” he finally said.

Lightning jerked back as if she’d been hit by a thundaga spell. She flew up from the couch, almost knocking over an empty cup on the coffee table.

“I didn’t… I wasn’t… Forget it.” She turned away from him.

Hope caught her wrist before she could flee the situation. “You were about to say something. I know you were.”

“I…” She looked down at him, her cheeks flushed red. Seconds passed. He could see it in her eyes again—the affection, the fear, and a vulnerability he’d never seen her show anyone else. The words were at the tip of her tongue, and he wanted to hear her say them. There and then, he wanted it more than anything.

Lightning blinked, and then snapped back to her usual self. Abruptly, she pulled her wrist from his grip. “Never mind. The moment’s gone.” She fidgeted awkwardly with her necklace. “I’m gonna go take a shower.”  

She stomped away, disappearing into the bathroom faster than should have been humanly possible. Hope stared at the closed bathroom door. While the disappointment still stung, he couldn’t help but smile. He had the feeling that whatever she’d been about to say was something worth waiting for.


	8. How can anyone not be afraid of love?/I didn’t intend to kiss you

After managing to avoid Hope for almost a week, Lightning found him waiting outside her apartment. Her first instinct was to turn on her heel and run, but he noticed her before she could act on it.  

“You didn’t answer my calls,” he said. “Or my messages. Or open the door, for that matter.”

She fixed her eyes on the floor. “I’ve been busy.”

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

She clenched her jaw. “Can you blame me?”

The memory of the last time they’d been together flashed before her eyes—an image of them lying in his bed, her head resting on his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her. She’d been perfectly content and at peace, and then he’d opened his mouth and ruined everything.

“Yeah, I can,” Hope said. “I told you I loved you, and you ran for the hills without a word.”

She flinched. “Stop saying that.”

“What? That I love you?” He took a step closer. “That can’t possibly have come as a surprise to you. What are you so afraid of?”

“How can anyone not be afraid of… of _love_?” She spit the word out as if it would burn her tongue if she lingered on it. “You can’t just… I know we’ve been, you know, but… You can’t just say something like that.”

“Why not?”

Why not? She wasn’t sure. All she knew was that it was a heavy word with heavy implications that she’d never had to deal with before. That she’d never _wanted_ to deal with before.

“We haven’t been together for all that long,” she said. “You didn’t even intend to kiss me that night—and I sure as hell didn’t intend to kiss _you._ This whole thing… It could be a mistake.”

“Do you regret it?” Hope took another step toward her. “Do you regret kissing me that night?”

She glanced up at him. The dark circles under his eyes were more pronounced than ever, but he was still too good-looking for his own good—for _her_ own good too. Her heart raced in her chest as he closed in on her. The answer was easy, really. A simple yes, and none of this would be a problem anymore. No more confusing feelings. No more fear. They’d go back to the relationship they’d had before all this, whatever that had been. She would always know, though. She would always know what it was like to kiss him.

“Light.” He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear before gently cupping her cheek in his hand. “Do you regret… _us_?”

A simple yes would make everything nice and easy again, but it also meant never kissing him again. She wasn’t sure she could live with that.

“No.” She swallowed hard. “Do you?”

“You know I don’t.” His smile made her heart skip a beat. “You know me better than anyone. You know exactly how I feel about you.”

She did, and it only made things even scarier.

“I love you,” he said softly. “I’ve been in love with you for centuries.”

Her cheeks heated up. “Stop it. Stop saying that.”

His smile widened. “Why?”

“You’re making me uncomfortable.”

“I know.” He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “I love that too.”

Lightning had to use all the mental strength she could muster to keep her brain from having a complete meltdown. As she stared up at him, face burning and heart pounding, she slowly came to terms with that this was how things were going to be now. The cat was out of the bag, and it clearly wasn’t going back in again. Hope had been in love with her for centuries—and, just like he’d said, a part of her had always known it. Nothing had changed except the fact that he was no longer going to pretend not to.

This, she supposed she could learn to live with, even though it was going to take some time getting used to. Sorting out her own conflicting emotions was a completely different story.


	9. Something about you makes me want to commit extreme violence

Lightning didn’t mind that Hope seemed to spend more time at her place than at his own. Her studio apartment was big enough for the two of them, and she enjoyed his company. What she didn’t enjoy, though, was him moving things that weren’t supposed to be moved.

“Hope,” she said through gritted teeth. “Where did you put the coffee jar?”

Hope looked up from his laptop. “What?”

“The coffee jar.” She motioned at the open pantry behind her. “Where is it?”

“Oh, right.” He stood up from the couch and approached the kitchenette. “I must have put it on the top shelf. That’s where I keep mine at home.”

She took a step away from the pantry and looked up. Yes, there it was. On the top shelf. Of course. She clenched her jaw. No, she definitely didn’t enjoy this.

“It’s supposed to be on the middle shelf,” she said, trying her best to keep her voice level. She stood on her tiptoes and reached for the jar. Her fingertips grazed it, but as she’d suspected, it was an inch or two from being within her reach. Boiling with anger, she stomped to the table and grabbed a chair. This was why she never used that shelf, and, most importantly, why Hope wasn’t supposed to move things.

“Right,” Hope said from behind her back. “I didn’t think of that. Sorry.”

When she turned back around, Hope was holding the coffee jar. Lightning’s brain short-circuited for a moment. Hope was not supposed to reach things she couldn’t reach. It didn’t matter that she on some level knew about the three or for extra inches he had on her—in her head, he still shouldn’t be able to do this. It was angering and frustrating and _wrong._

“I just thought I’d get it for you.” Judging by the uncertainty in Hope’s voice, her silent glare had to be even more intimidating than usual.

She took a deep breath in an attempt to push away the urge to break something. “Right now, there’s something about you that makes me want to commit extreme violence.”  

He tilted his head to the side, looking at her, then at the coffee jar, then back at her. “Do you… Do you want me to put it back up there?”

Lightning put the chair down on the floor and marched out of the apartment.


	10. If you want, we could go together?

Thanks for the prompt! Here’s some hurt/comfort. Definitely losing my queen of angst title here. 

* * *

 

When Hope rushed out of his apartment, late for work and stressed out as hell, he almost ran straight past the woman standing right outside his door. He came to an abrupt stop.

“Light? What are you doing here?”

Lightning shrugged, her eyes fixed on the floor. “I was taking a walk, and just… ended up here.”

He carefully approached her. Her skin was pale, and there were dark circles under her eyes. There was a weariness in her posture that he recognized all too well—he saw it in the mirror every time he pulled an all-nighter or two.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing. I don’t even know why I came here.” She fidgeted a little with her hair, still taking great care not to meet his gaze.

Hope sighed. Of course she’d say that. “Light. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s my mom’s birthday,” she blurted out. “It’s my mom’s birthday, and I… I can’t go see her, because her grave…” She swallowed hard. “I can’t go to her grave because her grave was left behind in the old world I don’t know where to leave her flowers. I was going to ask Serah but she’s out of town on her internship so I went for a walk and now I’m here.” Her lips twitched in a sad imitation of a smile. “Silly, right?”

“It’s not silly. Not at all.” He placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “There’s a memorial place on a graveyard a couple blocks away. I see people leave flowers there all the time. It’s not a grave, but it’s something.”

She nodded slowly. “A memorial place. Yes. That makes sense.”

Hope had to force himself not to wrap his arms around her. The insecurity in her eyes made her look so young.

“If you want, we could go together?” he carefully asked. Offering support to Lightning Farron was a little like Russian roulette. You either got to help her, or she strangled you.

She tilted her head to the side. “Now?”

“Now.”

“Don’t you have to go to work?”

“I’ll call in sick.”

She wrinkled her forehead. “You’d do that for me?”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, _that’s_ silly. Do you even have to ask?”

A faint blush spread across her cheeks. Hope would do anything for her, and on some level, she had to be aware of that too.

“If any other person had said that, I would have told them I’d rather go alone,” she said.

He grinned. “I’m not ‘any other person’.”

“No.” She stared up at him. “No, you’re not.”

He couldn’t quite interpret the unfamiliar look on her face, but he decided that he liked it.


	11. You would have liked him

Lightning took a seat on a bench beneath a massive oak. The flowers she’d left there the last time she visited her mom were gone, but the grave candle still remained near the oak’s roots. The sun had already set, leaving the memorial place cloaked in darkness. Clusters of candles covered the neat gravel paths, giving the grave-less corner of the cemetery a soft, somewhat eerie glow. The place was a little gloomier than her mom would have preferred, but Lightning figured that the oak made up for some of it. Her mother would have liked that oak.

“Hi, Mom. It’s been a while.” She fished out a lighter from her bag and lit the candle. “I… I’ve got something to tell you.”

A minute of silence passed, and then another. Lightning swallowed hard. What she was about to say was something she’d known for quite some time now, but she’d never said the words out loud. It was time, though. It was time to accept the truth and just come out with it.

“Mom… Do you remember the friend I brought last time?” she said. “His name is Hope. Hope Estheim. He’s a scientist. And a director. Really smart. Really kind. He saved the world, once. _We_ saved the world.” She smiled. “We’re a _we,_ he and I, Mom. I’m not fighting a war against the world all on my own anymore. I thought you’d be happy to hear that.”   

She leaned back, looking up at the oak’s intricate maze of branches. Her eyes blurred. “You would have liked him.”

Her mother would never get to meet Hope, and it hurt. It hurt a lot. Nothing could change that, though. There was no use wallowing in that pain. There were still things left to confess.   

She took a deep breath, and finally put it out in the open. 

“I’m in love with him, Mom. I’m in love with him.”

* * *

 

When she left the cemetery, her heart felt lighter. No matter how much she’d tried to deny it, she’d eventually been forced to accept the truth. She was in love with Hope. She’d said it out loud, and there was no going back.

Now, she just had to find the courage to tell him too.


	12. My nightmares are usually about losing you

Lightning was abruptly awakened by a sharp gasp coming from the other side of the studio apartment. When she turned on the lamp on her bedside table, she saw Hope sitting on the couch, his eyes as wild as his silvery hair.

“Hey.” She got out of bed and carefully approached him. “You okay?”

Last night, he hadn’t been in a good place. He’d come over after work, and when he was done venting, it was already past midnight. She’d tried to offer him the bed, but he’d insisted on sleeping on the couch. As far as she could tell, he’d been calm and more or less at peace when he’d fallen asleep. That was definitely no longer the case.

“Light?” His wide-open eyes were fixed at her, but she wasn’t sure he could see her. She wasn’t sure he could see anything, really—his mind seemed to be somewhere far, far away. He’d told her before that he occasionally suffered from vivid, terrifying nightmares. This had to have been one of those.

“It’s okay. It was just a dream.” She squeezed herself in into the small space between the couch and the coffee table and kneeled on the floor. “You’re in my apartment. You’re safe.”

“Light.” A glimmer of recognition flashed in his eyes. “You’re here.”

She nodded. “I’m here.”

With languid movements, he reached out and cupped her face in his hands. His thumbs caressed her cheeks with impossible gentleness. He touched her like she was made of porcelain—like he’d break her if he wasn’t careful enough. Her heart skipped a beat in a way it definitely shouldn’t have.

“You’re here.” His voice trembled. “You’re real.”

The coffee table almost fell over when Hope shoved it out of the way. He got down on the floor next to her and wrapped his arms around her, his grip so hard and desperate it only barely resembled a hug.

“Hope—”

”Please. Just… Just for a little while. Please.” His hand moved from her back to the nape of her neck as he buried his nose in her hair. “My nightmares… They’re about you. About losing you. About _him,_ taking you from me. Taking _everything_ from me.” He took a shivering breath. “Please.”

Lightning didn’t know how to react to neither the confession nor the vulnerability in his voice, so she just burrowed her face in the crook of his neck and let him hold her.


	13. Jealousy

Lightning rarely got to see Hope drunk. A shame, really—drunk Hope was a train wreck and very amusing to watch. At least half of his otherwise impressive brain capacity seemed to go straight out the window after a couple glasses. She smirked as he approached her, slightly unsteady, his tie hanging uncharacteristically loose around his neck. Usually, _she_ was the one who tended to have a drink too many at Serah’s oversized dinner parties. It was refreshing to be the sober one for once.

“Hey, there,” she said. “Having fun?”

“Not really.” He leaned against the wall next to her, his eyes roaming the crowd taking up pretty much every single square inch of Snow and Serah’s apartment. The other guests were clearly having a good time, just like always. Ususally, so did Hope.

“I thought you liked Serah’s get-togethers,” she said.  

“I thought you disliked them.” He clenched his jaw. The motion was nearly unnoticeable, but she caught it. “You seemed to have a good time back there. When you talked to that guy.”

She shrugged. “One of Serah’s colleagues. He was nice, I guess.”

“You were smiling.”

“I do that, occasionally. Believe it or not.”

“At him,” he said grimly. “You were smiling at him.”

“So?” She crossed her arms. “What’s wrong with that?”

His eyes, somewhat unfocused yet frighteningly intense, met hers. “It apparently puts me in a mood where I think downing three shots of tequila is a good idea.”

She stared up at him, trying her best to ignore the sudden quickening of her heartrate. “Why?”

The look he gave her made her shudder, and she immediately regretted the question. She got the feeling that an honest answer from him would be like opening a Pandora’s box. There would be no going back, and she wasn’t sure she could handle that.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he looked up again, his gaze was steadier. She wasn’t sure if it was possible for a person to force away the effects of alcohol by sheer will, but, well, if someone could do it, it would probably be Hope.

“I don’t know, Light.” He gave her a dejected smile. “I don’t know.”

“Right.” She hesitated for a moment.  “I… I turned him down, you know. That guy. He asked for my number, and I turned him down.”

“You did?” She could tell he was trying not to smile, but he wasn’t exactly succeeding. “Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“Right.”

And with that, their conversation was over, fading into a silence heavily laced with words left unspoken.


	14. Because you're here

“I know I said you could stay over whenever you want, but…” Lightning scratched the back of her head, hesitating for a moment. “Hope, my couch is pretty damn uncomfortable. Why do you keep coming here?”

Hope shrugged. “Your place is closer to work. Saves time.”

He grabbed a blanket and a pillow from her closet and placed them on the couch before lying down. He’d already changed into a tank top and his sleeping sweatpants, taken from the drawer in her bureau that had somehow become his. His button-down shirt and slacks lay neatly folded on the small ironing board squeezed in between the closet and the bureau. If it weren’t for him and his damn shirts, she wouldn’t even have owned an ironing board. Things were getting out of hand.

“Hope. Come on. Cut the crap.” She crossed her arms. “Is there something wrong with your apartment?”

“You’re not there.”

Lightning blinked. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected him to answer, but that definitely wasn’t it. “What?”

“That’s what’s wrong with my apartment. You’re not there.” He gave her a smile, kind but with a hint of sharpness in it—a smile she usually interpreted as _I’m exhausted, you’re silly, and I’m way too done with everything to sugarcoat things for your convenience._

“So you’re staying here, because…”

“Because you’re here.” He draped the blanket over himself and closed his eyes. “Less nightmares. More sleep. Good for work.”

“Good for work. Of course.” She paused, unsure what to say. “Well… goodnight, then.”

His lips twitched. “Goodnight.”

A part of her wanted to tell him about the way his presence improved her sleep, too. Another part of her wanted to tell him just how terrifying she found that fact. A third part wanted to tell him to stay away before things got seriously complicated. A fourth part wanted to tell him to just get up from the uncomfortable couch and share the bed with her.

Lightning turned off the light and went to bed without telling him anything at all.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you've probably noticed, these little short-fics don't come in chronological order. Sorry about that.


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